


Somewhere Only We Know

by RainTeaandDragons



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Dies Eventually, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, afterlife adventures, all the happiness for the Losers, basically there is a heck tonne of pining, because the losers deserve it, fuck you Pennywise you sloppy bitch-ass clown, there's a heck tonne of love and happiness here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21226811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainTeaandDragons/pseuds/RainTeaandDragons
Summary: After Pennywise, the Losers muddle through loss, life, and love; all the while knowing they can never really all see each other again.The universe has other ideas...(or, more simply, an afterlife AU)





	1. The Beginning (of the end)

**Author's Note:**

> Set directly after the events at the end of IT (2019), however, there is no real timeline for these events. They are somewhat chronological, but feel free to loosely interpret time (not too much though)!
> 
> This idea was born of one of the many 'what if...' thoughts I have had since I first watched the IT (1990) mini-series, the two IT movies just rekindled my inspiration so to speak.
> 
> Also, I was listening to the song 'Somewhere Only we Know' by Keane and was like 'damn! Those lyrics...'
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“_I came across a fallen tree_

_I felt the branches of it looking at me_

_Is this the place we used to love?_

_Is this the place that I've been dreaming of_?”

\- Keane

* * *

** _Stan_ **

**~**

Stan didn’t speak the first few days after he’d regained consciousness. He’d opened his eyes to find himself curled in the grass under a tree. Not any old tree at that. A tree, in a forest, in a town he’d thought he’d never see again. Not that there was anyone to speak to. It didn’t take him long to work out where he was, or at least where his faith would have sent him. For he had died, of that he was certain. Stan just hoped they had understood why he’d done it.

Stan hadn’t expected to wind up here of all places. He recognised the wooden support beams the moment he’d jumped down through the trapdoor, the handmade shelves, the hammock; it was all as he remembered – once those memories had come back at least. The name came back to him after a week.

_The Clubhouse_.

The memory of it brought him to tears, not that he knew why. Not yet.

The more of his childhood hometown Stan remembered the further he could walk. He wandered through all the Losers’ old haunts. Past the Synagogue, he couldn’t bring himself to enter. If his faith had put him here - whatever this place was - Stan didn’t want to know. Not that he ventured far from the Clubhouse that much. The silence was denser the further from that familiar place he walked.

He missed Patty so much, and it was so impenetrably quiet he almost couldn’t cope. _What I wouldn’t do to have Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier here with me. _Though he put a stop to that thought pretty quickly, knowing what would have to happen for Richie to be there.

Stan had no sense of time, so he didn’t know how long he had been there. Walking, exploring, thinking. So when he walked back to the supposedly empty Clubhouse to find someone sitting under the large tree that hid the Clubhouse’s trapdoor from the outside world, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even though he knew (or at least thought he knew) what this person being here meant.

The man was sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest, with his arms stretched out before him to rest on his knees. His head was bowed, nestled between his arms. The man looked up as Stan approached.

“Eddie?” Stan gaped for a few seconds, praying that this guy was _actually_ Eddie before saying the second word he had in months, “_fuck_.”

* * *

_**Eddie** _

**~**

“Hey fuckface! You wanna play truth or dare? Here’s the truth: you’re a sloppy bitch!”

From the safety of the cave Eddie can’t really see what is going on, but Richie’s voice is loud and clear. Just like it always is, obnoxious, humoured.

“Yeah, that’s right! Let’s dance! Yippee-ki-yay mother-”

Eddie’s heart clenches as he hears Richie’s words cut off, “Richie!”, the fearful yell is out of his lips before he can stop it. He’s still paralysed with fear. All he can hear is the screams of his friends and the invasive hum of the deadlights. The fence spear is cold in his clammy grip. _Useless_, he thinks, _you’re so damn useless! _Then Eddie remembers Bev’s words from before they had gone down into the sewer, when she had given him the fence spear itself.

_“Take it, it kills monsters if you believe it does.”_

Eddie wills his feet to finally move and skids to a halt at the edge of the low rock cliff. _This kills monsters._ “This kills monsters.” Eddie repeats this to himself again, and again before stepping out of the alcove and yelling “Beep beep mother-fucker!” Eddie then puts all his strength into throwing the fence spear at Pennywise.

On impact Pennywise releases Richie. Richie drops like a deadweight, hitting the rocky ground with a thud.

“Richie!” Eddie scrambles over. “Richie! I killed It! I really did!” He watches as Richie’s gaze focuses again, only then letting a relieved smile flicker on his lips. “I actually-” Overwhelming pain floods his chest and he look down to see the end of a claw sticking through the front of his chest. “Richie…” Eddie manages to mumble before he is tugged away, momentarily blacking out.

Eddie comes to when his back hits the rocks, hard. He groans, struggling to breath at all, gagging as his own blood coats his throat and mouth. His vision clears just enough for him to see Richie crouching in front of him. There are so many things he wants to say, things he knows he doesn’t have time for. “Ri- Richie…” He senses movement in front of him, then feels a sharp pain as something is pressed to his wound. His own hands are moved gently to hold it there, the ‘it’ turns out to be what feels like Richie’s jacket. Eddie has the most impossible, untimely thought that Richie must need the jacket - _it’s so fucking cold down here._ It’s the last thought Eddie has before he blacks out again, just for a minute, but it’s enough. The sounds of screams and chaos brings Richie back into vision again. The panic and pain in Richie’s expression hurts almost as much as the hole in his chest. A wound he knows can never be patched up. _I’m sorry,_ he thinks before he can stop himself.

“Hey, Richie…” Eddie manages to speak.

“Yeah?”

Eddie just wants to hear Richie laugh again, he knows it is impossible, but it can’t hurt to try. _Even just a smile would be fine._ “...I fucked your mother.”

~

The last thing Eddie expects after dying is to wake up. Especially under a tree, curled in a patch of grass, and not the clean, sterile hospital where he _should_ be. _What the fuck. _Eddie sits up, resting his head between his bent knees._ Though_, he thinks, _I feel fine - no massive hole in my chest, no stab wound in my cheek, no blood either. All blood is where it is supposed to be_. Other than the knowledge of what just happened to him, Eddie knows he’ll be fine. _I am okay_, he tells himself again.

_Richie won’t be though._

The horrible thought surfaces before he can stop it. Eddie knows it is true. Whether or not Richie survives the fight, he won’t be okay at all. _Whose fault is that then? _Eddie sighs. “I miss him already.”

“Eddie?”

Eddie looks up to see a wirily built man with a runaway fringe of curls, he looks familiar, Eddie just can’t quite pick where from. The guy looks just as stunned as Eddie feels. There’s a beat of silence. Then the realisation of his own situation, mixed with the man’s familiar features, a name surfaces in Eddie’s mind. “Stan?”

Stan nods. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but, well…” he shrugs, gesturing around the clearing.

“I died, didn’t I?” Eddie’s voice pitches, he can’t help it. He knows exactly what is going on, but seeing Stan just confirms it. 

Stan nods.

Eddie’s next breath is barely a breath at all. It cracks and catches in his chest, just like it always used to. He scrabbles in his pocket for his inhaler, panic twisting in his gut as he grasps at nothing. _It isn’t there. Why isn’t it there? _Then he realises with a frown, _I wouldn’t need it anymore,_ and it is as if a switch has been flicked in his mind_. _The shortness of breath had only been a reflex, the ghost of an affliction that had plagued him in life. 

“Eddie?”

“I don’t think I have asthma anymore.” Eddie grins, a light chuckle bursting from his lips.

“No kidding.”

Eddie takes Stan’s offered hand, a relieved smile lighting up his face. His expression crumples with Stan’s next question.

“What happened?”

Eddie just put his hands up at Stan’s protests, he knows he’ll have to explain at some point. His expression hardens. The crinkle of his smile leaves with the rising of his memories. So then Eddie tells him. Shares everything he remembers from the moment they’d all met up at the restaurant right up until he’d been impaled. He doesn’t leave anything out, there is no need to. He knows, now, they have all the time in the world.

* * *

_ **Interlude: Patty** _

**~**

Stan didn’t think it were possible for the place he’d ended up in the afterlife could surprise him anymore, yet it continued to anyway. First there had been Eddie turning up, then they’d worked out that in fact they were functioning as if they were alive. With all the needs a living human would have. Thankfully, the shops seemed to have everything they needed, as they needed it. Stan was no closer to understanding how or why this was happening, but he was glad it was.

He and Eddie were wandering through Derry again, it seemed brighter that day, livelier than it had been in days. It was as they rounded the corner heading towards Derry main street that Stan heard a familiar voice. A voice he didn’t ever think he’d hear again

“What the…” The voice trails off.

Stan’s heart is beating somewhere in his throat as he runs towards the voice.

“Stan, wait!” Eddie calls after him but Stan barely hears.

_Impossible. _On the sweetshop corner stood Patty. Beautiful as the day he’d met her, just as he remembered her from the day Mike had called. “Patty…” he almost whispers her name, still not quite believing what he is seeing. “Patty!” He calls again.

Patty turns towards him with just as much shock in her expression as Stan is feeling. “Stan?”

Stan takes another few steps forward but then falters. “Patty, I-”

“No, this can’t be, I must be dreaming. You can’t be- I-”

Stan can see the panic setting in as she stares at him. “Patty, everything is alright, I promise I can explain. Please, just, calm down.”

“Is it really you?” She reaches out to cup his cheek.

Stan leans into her touch, closing his eyes. “It’s really me, I promise.” _At least I think it is._ Stan glances around, Eddie is standing a way off, watching them. He gives Stan an encouraging smile then turns with a small wave and walks away.

“Shall we walk through the park? I’m pretty sure there’s somewhere there we can sit down.”

Patty nods. She’s still staring at Stan like he’s a ghost. He doesn’t blame her, the last she saw of him, _well_, he didn’t like to think about it. Explaining this place to Patty was different than explaining it to Eddie. Patty didn’t know anything about what had happened in his childhood, how could she know? Stan had only remembered because Mike had called, and at that point it had been too late. Stan felt like he had to tell her everything, not just to explain, but to apologise.

By the time Stan is finished, Patty is in tears, and Stan’s voice is beginning to crack.

“I’m so sorry, Patty, for what I put you through. I-”

“Stan, you don’t have to apologise to me.” Patty takes his hand. “Before though, I didn’t think I could forgive you, but in the end, I could only miss you.”

Stan hesitates, heart in his throat. “There was never anyone else?”

“Never. I only ever loved you.” Patty wipes her eyes, trying for a smile. “I can’t believe I’m here, that _you’re_ here. I thought I wouldn’t see you again. Stan, I love you so much you know?”

“I love you too my dear.” Stan pulls her towards him in a tight hug. He holds her as close as possible, pressing a kiss into her hair. _Miracle, _he thinks, _this can only be some sort of miracle._ Stan smiles, “come on, I’d love for you to meet a friend of mine.”

“There are others here too?”

“Just Eddie.”

“The anxious one?”

Stan grins. “Yeah, the anxious one, but don’t let him hear you say that.”


	2. The Denbroughs

_ **Bill** _

**~**

For Bill, the decision to leave Derry hadn’t been a very difficult one. Everyone was leaving now, even Mike. Bill was all too happy to leave Derry, but saying goodbye to the Losers, _that_ was harder than he could ever have imagined. They’d all been a mess for days after what had happened to Eddie, Richie worst of all, so Bill stayed as long as possible. Waiting until they’d all gone back to their old lives with promises to call, and to catch up when they could. It was Richie who’d insisted Bill go back home to Audra, not that Bill didn’t want to see her, but he didn’t want to leave Richie alone in Derry.

“Are you sure, Rich?”

“Just go!” Richie laughs, “Audra’s waiting for you.”

Bill nods. “If you’re sure.”

“I have some things I need to do here anyway.” Richie pauses, “plus, Christmas, right? I’ll see you all then!”

Even as Bill packs up his stuff and heads towards his rental car, he still hates the idea of leaving Richie there. At least alone in L.A. he’d have people around him, alone in Derry Richie would only be surrounded by memories.

~

Christmas that year was a strange affair. Bill and Audra had happily offered to host, their modest family home had just enough room for all of them, plus partners. They’d insisted that everyone stay as long as they liked, Bill had planned and replanned how to fit them all in. There was no way he would let that planning go to waste.

Mike had arrived first, and whatever anxieties Bill had been feeling about seeing everyone again had faded instantly. After that, the afternoon was a breeze. Bev and Ben turned up soon after with what seemed like enough food to feed double the number of guests that would be there.

“Richie not here yet?” Bev muses as she helps Bill put the last of the food into the pantry.

“He just texted then; his flight was cancelled.”

“Damn, just his luck.”

“That’s just what he said to me.” Bill replies with a laugh.

Bev grins, shrugging slightly. “We’ll just have to wait to open that bottle of champagne Mike brought.”

Richie turns up eventually, bounding in with his usual swagger. Bill notices though, as he pulls his friend into a hug, that he seems a little tense. His joyous energy just a façade.

Richie grins, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “We all made it then! And Bill here thought we wouldn’t manage it.”

“Sure Rich,” Ben gives him a light punch on the arm.

“Anyone for a drink?” Mike walks in with the bottle he’d brought, sensing the tension radiating from Richie still standing in the doorway.

“Line ‘em up.”

Bill snorts at Richie’s comment then follows Audra into the kitchen to fetch the glasses. “They’re all right really.”

“You mean Richie?”

Bill doesn’t disagree.

By the end of the night, Bev and Audra are thick as thieves. Seeing them and the rest of the Losers all talking and laughing again makes Bill happier than ever, but there is still a tension, an absence in the air, and there’s no question of its cause. It isn’t until after dinner and they are all lazing about in the lounge that Mike brings it up.

“They would have loved this,” he says with a sigh, “us all being together again.”

Richie barks a short laugh. “Yeah, with no impending _doom_.” Silence blankets the room but Richie just keeps on speaking. “I miss them,” he pauses, “I miss _him._”

Mike raises his glass, “To Eddie and Stan.”

“To us.” Ben adds.

“To the Losers Club.” Bill smiles.

“Cheers!” They all chorus back with a bout of laughter. All sorrows temporarily forgotten.

Back in each other’s presence, they all sleep soundly that night.

Christmas Eve afternoon, Bev, Bill, and Audra are all setting the table for lunch the next day. It would usually be a rather quick job, but Richie was wandering in every five minutes or so only to swap the sides for the cutlery or move the glasses around. The others merely changed things back with a roll of the eyes. Glad to know Richie was still up to his rather childish antics. On his fifth trip to the table Richie comes to a halt in the doorway, a frown creasing his brows as he stares at the table.

“Did you forget how to count, Denbrough?”

Bill spins round, “Huh?” following Richie’s gaze to the table.

It’s Bev who responds slowly. “Ohh. We set places for Eddie and Stan.” She softens her tone, “Is that alright honey?”

Richie doesn’t respond for a moment, just staring at the extra seats. “Of- of course!” Richie smiles, but there is no mistaking the sadness in his eyes as he continues. “If not, who else would be there to steel the best of my roast potatoes?”

Bill gives a short laugh, watching his friend carefully. He doesn’t miss the soft look Richie gives Bev, mouthing a thank you. Nor does he miss the tears Richie wipes from his eyes as he leaves the room.

On Christmas Day, Eddie’s seat is to the left of Richie. Stan’s seat is to Bill’s right. They laugh, they drink. Everyone is happy.

~

Bill dies happily and comfortably in his sleep three somewhat lonely years after Audra. Which is why he is so confused when he wakes up in a very earthy smelling room. He notes - with relief - that he has receded to the body he had in his early forties. Why though he doesn’t understand, but with the realisation that he’d died and woken up again Bill decides his decrease in age should be the last of his concerns. If possible his confusion increases three times as much two familiar voices reach his ears. Two voices he hasn’t heard for more years than he’d like to acknowledge.

“...remember the look on his- BILL!?”

The voice stops abruptly as a curly haired man jumps down into the room only to stare open mouthed in shock.

“Long time no see.” Bill grins. “Please, Stanley, can you tell me you have some clue what the fuck is going on, because if Eddie hadn’t died killing Pennywise, I would have no hesitation in blaming It.”

There is a thud as someone else jumps down as well. Tall and lanky, and looking healthier than Bill has ever seen him, “Eddie!”. Bill dashes forward, pulling his friends into a tight hug. He doesn’t need an explanation anymore, not really. Seeing them both at this point in his life was more than he could ever have believed possible.

“Don’t worry mate, we’re still just as confused as you are.” Eddie tells him in a tone which is clearly meant to reassure. Unsurprisingly it does nothing. “There’s just one thing that we can all agree on.”

“We are definitely dead?”

“Yup.” Stan replies, deadpan.

“As to where we are now though, no clue,” Eddie adds, “though wherever we are is doing a grand impersonation of the lovely township of Derry.” His words drip with sarcasm. “It’s so good it’d put Richie to shame.”

There’s a flash of pain in Eddie’s eyes at the mention of Richie but it’s gone almost instantly. Eddie doesn’t mention Richie again (not yet anyway), and Bill won’t push him. Instead he says, “Is anyone else here?”

“If you’d kept track of your friends,” Stan raises a single brow, “surely you would know.”

Bill rolls his eyes. “They are all very alive, trust me. I meant Geor- Georgie.” He is taken aback by the momentary return of his stutter, _but _he supposes_ if there was anything that would bring his stutter back it would be Georgie._

“Not that we know of,” Eddie replies, “but we haven’t walked too far into town from the Clubhouse.”

“If he is here, wherever here is, he’d be at your house, right?”

“I suppose, if it works like it did for us - we all turned up here.” Stan gave a small smile. “The one place we all felt at home.”

“I suppose we’re off to the Denbrough household then?” Stan asks.

Eddie leads the way up the ladder on the wall of the clubhouse. “We really need to put some stairs in.” He says absentmindedly as he pulls himself up into the grass, _I’m getting too old for this._

The three of them stand at the Denbrough’s front door. Bill reaches up a hand to knock before feeling an elbow in his side.

“You know you don’t need to knock at your own house, right?” Stan is glancing at him with a look of concern.

“Right.”

Bill turns the handle and the door swings open with a creak. It’s all as he remembers it. The framed family photographs, the mismatched, matching furniture, the sounds each step makes on the hardwood floors. It’s only now he realises just how much Georgie’s disappearance had taken the title of ‘home’ away from this house.

“Geor- Georgie?” Bill calls out into the depths of the seemingly empty house. “Georgie! It’s Bill, Billy, your brother. If you are here-” _oh god, please let you be here _“-it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Silence.

Bill turns back to the others; they’re still hovering in the doorway. He feels a lump rising in his throat as the small bubble of hope in his chest begins to melt away. That’s when he hears the rush of footsteps behind him and he slowly turns back around.

“Billy?” Georgie’s voice is small, apprehensive.

“I’m here Georgie.” Bill kneels down in front of his brother. He looks exactly the same as he did the day he disappeared. Same yellow raincoat, same galoshes, same wide brown eyes. “Everything’s gonna be alright!”

“You don’t look like my Billy.” Georgie replies, still sounding scared. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers…” the boy trails off. 

No, no-” Bill panics, “it is me Georgie. I’m just much older. Much, much older.”

Georgie just stares at him.

“That day, that horrible, rainy day. We made the paper boat. You went down to the basement to get the paraffin to waterproof the paper.”

“The S. S. Georgie. She was too fast.” Georgie says, downcast.

“Exactly, Georgie, you call a boat she.”

“Billy?” Georgie repeats.

Bill can only nod, he doesn’t trust his voice not to break. He opens his arms to pull his younger brother into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry, Georgie. I should have been there. I should have saved you. I-”

“You’re here now.”

Bill can hear the tears in Georgie’s voice, it mixes with the relief. Fear is no longer there. “I missed you so much Georgie.”

“I missed you too Billy.”

Bill doesn’t know how long he stays hugging his brother. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to spend that much time away from him again, and that now, maybe, he won’t ever have to.

* * *

_**Interlude: Audra** _

**~**

While being surrounded by his friends and seeing Georgie again at this point in his (after)life was more than he could ever have hoped for, Bill missed Audra more than ever. In life, he’d already spent three years without her, but now, especially when he is surrounded by his other loved ones Bill can’t help but think, _well, if they’re all here, why not her?_

He asks Stan about it, one afternoon as they walk back to the Clubhouse from town, arms full of groceries that seemed to appear from nowhere. They didn’t really need to eat, but it felt strange not to, and so they did.

“Stan…” Bill starts, then pauses, not really sure how to word his question. “When you found Patty, how did- did you-”

Stan, stoic, perceptive Stan, just gives him a sad smile, “I don’t know, Bill, I’m so sorry. I really have no clue how this place works. I wasn’t expecting to see her, I was surprised enough when Eddie turned up, let alone Patty.”

“I know, I just, I miss her so much, and I worry th- that because she died first, she might never find her way here…because I wasn’t here first.” Bill doesn’t want to think like that, but he can’t help it.

“She’ll find her way here Bill, I’m sure.” Stan says but that doesn’t help to stifle Bill’s doubt.

They walk the rest of the way back in a comfortable silence.

That night, Bill can’t sleep, he sits on the veranda of his childhood home, staring out at the endless sky. At some point Georgie comes out and sits with him.

“Are you okay Billy?” He asks, staring up at his big brother.

Bill sighs, realising there is no point in lying. “No, not really.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m missing someone, Audra.”

“Is she here?”

“Maybe,” Bill answers, burying the lump in his throat, “maybe not.”

“Do you love her?”

“Very much?”

Georgie’s expression turns to a determined frown. “Let’s go find her then!”

“Geor- Georgie…we can’t just…”

“Why not?”

Bill can’t help but smile at his little brother’s resolve. “Okay then, let’s go find Audra.”

Georgie stands, and taking Bill’s hand, he walks out towards the street.

“D- do you even know where you’re going?”

“Nope,” Georgie grins playfully, “do you?”

They walk, for what seems like forever. Not in a tiring sense, but to Bill, it felt like this version of Derry never seemed to end.

“Wait.” Bill says, a grin lighting up his face. _Where would Audra go if she ended up in a strange town? Assuming she’s here at all._

“What?” Georgie glances up.

“I know where Audra will be!” Bill cries out happily. He takes Georgie’s hand in his and runs back into town.

Bill skids to a halt in front of the Derry Information centre, heart racing, eyes wild. _If Audra is anywhere, she has to be here. _He strides up and pushes open the door. “H- hello! Audra?”

“Bill?” Audra spins round, flyers and maps in both hands. “Bill!” She yelps, dropping the maps and running to jump into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here! Can’t believe _I’m _here at that.”

“I can.” Bill murmurs, a warm smile gracing is lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Audra replies as she pulls away. “What is going on though Bill, really? This is just as impossible as some of the stuff in your books.”

“I know dear,” Bill says, “I’ve learnt to just accept it. We don’t really know what’s going on.”

“We?” Audra gapes.

Bill grins, “Eddie’s here too, plus Stan and Patty. My friends from Derry, you never got to meet them, an- and this is Georgie.”

“Your brother, Georgie.”

Bill nods. “Georgie, th- this is Audra. My wife.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you Georgie.” Audra says with a smile.

“And you.” Georgie replies. “We walked all over town to find you.”

“I’m glad you did!”

“Shall we go home?” Bill asks. “You can meet the others tomorrow.

“Home sounds good.” Audra says taking Bill’s hand.

“Home.” Georgie echoes, smiling widely up at Bill.


	3. Mr and Mrs Hanscome-Marsh

_ **Ben** _

**~**

Ben knows he has to get out of Derry as soon as possible. The poison which had made hell out of his teen years had gotten to him again. He could feel it. The progress he’d made as an adult had been slowly stripped away from the moment he’d crossed the town’s border. The deaths of Stan and Eddie had made it even worse. The feeling of worthlessness was overwhelming, especially seeing how heartbroken Richie had been. He did feel guilty to leave him behind, but Richie had whispered something to him over a shared bottle of whisky one night at the hotel which he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

_“Take Bev and run, before it’s too late.”_

Ben had known exactly what Richie had meant, between the words of his simple piece of advice. Leave with her now before Derry can take her, just like Pennywise took Eddie from me.

So he did. Ben left with Bev that next morning, and even after just passing the ‘You are leaving the township of Derry’ sign on the edge of town. Ben had started to feel lighter.

They were quiet for most of the drive to the airport, but they were content, and that was all Ben had wanted.

~

Ben had always been a details man. He still is. So he loses count of how many times he checks the table is set perfectly. That the champagne is chilled. That the candles are all lit. Ben also, at heart, is a complete and utter romantic. He doesn’t even make it through the entrée he’d made him and Bev before he asks her to marry him.

The heartfelt, and certain _yes _makes him (he thinks) the happiest man alive.

~ 

“You ready for this Benny boy?” Mike grins as he watches Ben fix his bowtie in the mirror for the umpteenth time.

Ben glances up, looking from Mike leaning against the doorframe, to Bill where he is perched on the edge of the bath. “You’ll be fine,” the latter reassures.

Ben isn’t sure why he suddenly feels so insecure, like a child again. butterflies crowding his stomach, cutting off any rational thought. “You sure?”

“If I can do it, Ben, so can you.” Bill grins, “just don’t forget your vows.”

He doesn’t, but it’s a close call. As soon as he sees Bev in her stunningly white dress being led down the aisle by a rather dashing Richie all thoughts are pulled from his mind. _She is so beautiful, _he thinks happily, _I am the luckiest man alive._

It isn’t long before they are kissing for the first time as husband and wife. Ben leads Bev back up the aisle so they can meet everyone else at the reception. It’s only once they’re in the car heading to the hall they’d rented for the night that a slightly terrifying thought occurs to him. _We asked Richie to MC, plus he’s doing the best man speech. _To Ben’s horror they’d drawn straws for the job, shortest straw won the job - they’d all wanted to do the best man speech and it had seemed the best (and apparently) most logical way to settle to decision. They’d asked Richie to MC months previously, and Ben was currently wondering if that had been the best.

Now, sitting at the top table, Ben knew he’d needn't have worried. He’d trusted Richie to do a good job, but his friend had always been a natural at taking things too far.

“-like the rest of us. A true Loser, but he has always been the best of us. ‘_Loser?_’ you say? Not to worry, that’s what we were, really, but what else can give you the closest-knit friend group? Collective otherness. Ben though, he is the best of the best, a genuinely beautiful human being. You’re a lucky one Bev, though I suppose you know that already.” Richie sends her a wink, “having said yes and all that!”

Bev squeezes Ben’s hand, giving Richie a small nod.

“Enough sentiment though, I’m not a comedian for nothing.” Richie grins.

Ben groans.

“Who wants to hear about the time Ben built us a clubhouse for us underground but forgot to put in a ladder? We might not have made it out, and you guys wouldn’t have heard this delightful little speech here. Luckily Bev here hadn’t jumped down yet and ran off to get some rope. In the meantime, we discovered the main reason behind a favourite of my nicknames for Ben, Haystack. He became the bottom of what I liked to call the Human Pyramid of Losers alongside Mike here. By the time Bev had returned we were all sitting under the tree, a little bruised and covered in dirt.” Richie chuckles, “always reliable, this one. You’re lucky Bev, again, as you well know, Ben is the best.” Richie grins. “Anyway, enough of me rambling, let’s get on with the party!

Later in the night Ben pulls Richie aside. “Thank you, Rich, your speech really means a lot.”

“Shucks, has the champagne gone to your head? You’re getting sentimental with me.”

“Listen, idiot,” Ben sighs, “I know all this is difficult for you.” He gestures at the party guests all laughing, chatting, and dancing. “I may be a little distracted tonight, but I’m not blind.”

“Never said you were.”

“You didn’t have to.” Ben reaches out, putting a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Just, thank you.”

“It’s a pleasure to have been of service,” he salutes.

“Beep beep Richie.” Ben sighs, “Please be serious.”

“I just did serious, a whole speech of serious.” Richie grins, “I’m quite proud of myself.”

“This is just the first time we’ve seen you since Christmas, it’s been months. I’m worried about you, we all are.” Ben shakes his head. “It’s just, you being here, at a _wedding_. It must be hard for you, without Eddie here.” Ben swallows, wondering if he’s said too much.

“I promise you Ben, I do miss him, _so _much, and if I’ve been distant, that’d probably be why. It comes with the name, Trashmouth Tozier, an ability to talk but not really say anything.” Richie smiles, “I’m happy for you, and no matter how crap I feel I’m not going to let that spoil your night! Now, c’mon, your MC deserves a dance!”

Ben grins, acknowledging that Richie had said all he wanted. “Lead the way!”

Richie starts back towards the dance floor then stops. “I meant what I said you know. You’re the best of the best, heart of gold. Thank you, you worrying about me on the best day of your life, it means a lot.”

Ben gives Richie a nod of understanding. “Well, us Losers have got to stick together, right?”

“Right.”

~

This is the last place Ben expects to end up. It takes him mere seconds to realise where he is, and even shorter time to answer the question of what had happened. As to what was going on, that was harder to figure out. The emptiness, that feeling of already missing Bev is almost overwhelming. It’s even more noticeable without the tell-tale ache in his joints from old age. _Well that’s a relief._

“Welcome back Ben.”

The familiar voice makes him stumble to his feet. “Eddie?” Ben gapes at the man standing in front of him. “But you’re…”

“Sorry to break it to you, but so are you.”

“Ahh.” Ben is surprised to feel himself smiling, “I see.” There’s a moment of silence, then, “it’s so good to see you again Eddie!” Ben runs forward and pulls him into a bone crushing hug.

“You too Ben, you too!” Eddie grins, “Just wait ‘til you see who else is here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll have to jump down,” Eddie indicates the hole in the ground, “there’s still no ladder!”

“The Clubhouse?”

“See for yourself.”

Ben jumps down to see the Clubhouse hasn’t changed at all. It’s just as he remembers. Just as alive, just as homely.

“Nice of you to show up.” An oddly familiar voice says dryly.

Ben spins round to see someone who could only be Stan, none of them could deliver a like that, and punctuate it such a grin. “Stan!” It takes two steps for Ben to pull his friend into a tight hug.

“Good to see you!” Stan’s voice is muffled in Ben’s shoulder.

Ben greets Bill with just as much enthusiasm but is surprised to see a young boy leaning against the wall. “Who’s this?” He asks slowly.

Bill grins. “Ben, meet Georgie, Georgie, this is Ben. You didn’t meet him b- before, but he’s a friend. A close friend.”

As Ben kneels in front of Georgie, he feels a small pang of longing to see his own children. “Hey Georgie.” He grins, “great to meet you!”

Georgie smiles back. “Hello.”

He doesn’t say anything else, so Ben takes that as a cue to ask a question that had been plaguing him since he’d seen Eddie. “Do you guys have any clue what the heck is going on?”

Bill shrugs. “Nope. Stan’s been here the longest and even he still doesn’t know.”

“I thought maybe It,” Eddie swallows, “Pennywise, was messing with me when I first woke up here, but it couldn’t be…”

“I don’t think it matters,” Bill frowns, “maybe the world is just rewarding us.”

“Rewarding us?” Stan scoffs, “and rewarding us _how_?”

“We stopped It!” Ben says, then cocks his head to the side with a grin, “extreme karma?”

“It still doesn’t explain-” Stan starts.

“-do we need to understand though?” Eddie cuts in. “I thought I’d never see you all again. I, somehow, have been blessed with the opportunity to do so. If this is an afterlife, it’s not what I expected, it’s better.” He pauses for breath, letting his hands fall back to his sides from gesturing around. Eddie sits, “If this continues like we think it will, where we all find each other eventually, I’ll get to see Richie again. Reward or not, real or not, I’ll take it.”

Ben glances over at where Eddie sits, realising the truth of Eddie’s words. _So, I was right, _he thinks, _all those years ago._ “I’m happy to think that.” He smiles. “I’ll get to see Bev again too.”

* * *

** _Bev_ **

**~**

The first time Bev had left Derry she’d only been a young girl. Still plagued by fears of Pennywise, of her father, of everything which had happened that summer. That time she’d hoped it would have been the last. Even with all the promises she’d made to visit them all - promises she then didn’t know she wouldn’t keep - Bev hadn’t wanted to come back.

Then Mike had called, and all that fear, that dread, it had all come flooding back.

Bev couldn’t quite believe that she’d managed to forget everyone. The first people who’d made her feel welcome, who’d made her feel loved. That was the best bit about coming back to Derry. Everything else though, why’d they’d come back, what happened as a result, that was almost worse than all the horrors she’d left behind the first time.

Leaving Derry was easier the second time round. Yes, Bev remembered everything, her friends, the friends they’d lost, but this time she was leaving hand in hand with Ben. She felt more loved now than she ever had, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could finally be happy. 

~

“Do you want kids?” Bev asks the question though she already knows the answer. She feels him shift slightly next to her on the couch.

“I do,” Ben answers slowly, “but only if you do too.”

Bev is silent for a moment. She holds his answer close, _I do, but only if you do to. _Ben has always put her first, so she hates her reply as it leaves her lips. “I’m scared, and it’s not because of how my dad was, I don’t think I’ll be a bad parent because of him.”

“But?” Ben prompts, gently pulling her closer.

“_But_, what if I just _am_ a bad parent?” Bev sighs, “I’ve never been the most maternal type, and what if I just…” she trails off. She’s not sure how she was going to finish that sentence. Bev hasn’t felt this scared since Derry.

“No one can know how they’ll be as a parent until they have kids.” Ben presses a gentle kiss to Bev’s temple. “I know you’ll be great.”

“You do?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Okay then.” Bev smiles, leaning into Ben, “Let’s start a family.”

While she still worries, Bev has never been happier. Lying there in Ben’s arms, there is no place she’d rather be.

~

“My waters just broke.” Bev’s voice is a mixture of panic and excitement as Ben answers the phone. Bev hears as he fumbles with the phone. If she wasn’t so nervous she’d probably have chuckled at his blunder. She can relax more now though, Ben will be here soon.

The rest of the afternoon is a rush of panic, breathing exercises, tears, and joy. By late that night Bev is sitting up in bed, beyond exhausted, but very happy, cradling a small bundle in her arms.

“He’s beautiful.” Ben murmurs, his tone full of awe.

Bev nods. “He’s so small, so delicate.” She almost can’t quite believe it.

“Do you have a name for him?” The nurse asks with a kind smile.

Ben doesn’t take his eyes off their son as he replies. “We talked about it before. Let me introduce you to Stanley Edward Hanscom.”

~

As it turns out, motherhood is more than Bev could ever have imagined. It’s better. She thrives on having little Stan to look after and she couldn’t be happier.

It’s the morning Stan’s third birthday, and he is very happily refusing to eat his breakfast. Ben clatters downstairs. Placing a kiss on Bev’s cheek then blowing a small raspberry on Stan’s cheek making the boy giggle.

“That tickles, Pa!”

“Happy Birthday Stanny Boy,” Ben earns himself another giggle. He heads towards the door calling behind him, “I’ll be back soon with the C A K E.”

“Don’t forget the C A N D L E S!”

“Course not!”

Bev looks up just as Ben hops back into the doorway. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Bev replies fondly.

“Loveoo.” Stan echoes.

It isn’t long before there’s a knock at the door. Bev opens it to find a tired looking Richie on her doorstep. A present under one arm, and a bag under the other.

“Hello!” Richie grins and leans in to kiss her cheek. “Birthday boy in the kitchen?”

Bev nods. “Refusing to eat his breakfast.”

“That’s my nephew!” Richie leans in to lightly pinch Stans cheeks, “saving himself for ca-”

“-C A K E! You’re a terrible influence, _Uncle_ Rich.” Bev laughs.

“Uncle Rich! Uncle Rich!”

“Yeah Stanny?”

“I am three!” The boy holds out four fingers, frowns, then flicks another finger down. “Three!”

“Right you are!” Richie ruffles Stan’s orange curls. “How about some of this breakfast, hey?”

“Nahh.”

“Then _I’ll_ have to eat it,” Richie grins, “and-.”

“No!” Stan interrupts, grasping the spoon and shovels a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth. He chews with a frown, swallow, “my breaky.”

Bev laughs, mouthing a thank you at Richie.

He shrugs, “I’m his favourite uncle.”

Eventually everyone arrives and they all walk to the park with a picnic and the cake Ben had brought back. Just a small celebration, but perfect all the same.

~

Bev had said goodbye to Ben only a year before. It had been a long year, and the year that followed had been even worse. Stan sat by her bedside, holding her hand as she closed her eyes for the last time.

“What on earth?” Bev mutters as she sits up in a familiar grassy patch. She could hear loud voices from what looked like a hole in the ground. _No way, _Bev thinks, _the Clubhouse?_ Then an equally as confusing thought occurs to her, _I should be dead...maybe I am?_

“Bev!”

Ben’s voice hits her like a tonne of bricks. Bev didn’t realise she’d missed it as much as she did.

“Ben?” He looks young again, like he had when she’d seen him again at the restaurant all those years ago. Bev takes a quick glance at her hands, _it must be the same for me. _She pulls herself to her feet before running at Ben and leaping into his arms. “I missed you so much.”

“_I’ve_ missed you so much.” Ben presses a kiss into her neck. “So have the others.”

“The others?”

“C’mon.” Ben takes her hand and pulls her quickly towards the entrance to the clubhouse.

Bev clatters down the stairs, _Ben must have fixed them, _she thinks before her mouth drops open in a small ‘o’ as she stares at the other people lounging around the clubhouse. They’re all almost too big for the place now but it doesn’t seem to bother them. “Bill, Eddie!” Bev pauses, wishing away the tears that had been threatening to fall since she’d seen Ben. “Oh my,” she says as she turns to her right, “Stan?” he is almost the same as she remembers him, just thirty years older, but he has the same runaway fringe, same eyes, same grin. She pulls him into a hug. “It’s been far too long.”

“I know.” Stan says in a whisper as the others all crowd in to hug her too.

Over Stan’s shoulder Bev sees a young boy sitting cross-legged in the hammock. “You must be Georgie.” Bev says with a smile as they all break away from the hug, she smiles at him and the young boy nods. Bev looks over at Bill, “I guess this place really is a miracle then?”


	4. The Curator

_ **Mike** _

**~**

Mike shuts the boot of his car with a loud clunk. After nearly forty years, he was getting out. Mike knew he’d needed to, that no one else could have stayed to make sure they all came back at the right time. Now though, Derry didn’t need him anymore, and he did _not_ need Derry. Ben and Bev had already left, now it was just Richie and Bill who were sticking around for a bit. The pair were sitting on a bench near the library as they waited for Mike to pack the last of his things. None of them had spoken much that afternoon, _well, _he thought, _what could they say._

“I’ll be off then.” Mike says abruptly.

“Finally leaving Derry then?” Richie says with a laugh. It seems forced, but Mike lets it go.

“Had to happen eventually!” Mike responds, offering his friend a smile. “I’ve been here too long.”

“Haven’t we all?”

Bill rolls his eyes, then grins wide. “You’re still coming to mine for Christmas, yeah?”

“Where else would I be?” Mike replies, pulling open the driver’s side door.

Mike hugs Bill, then Richie. “See you round.” Mike says fighting the feeling of loneliness as he lets them go.

When he’d left Derry for the first time in his life, Mike hadn’t really known where he was going. Nor did he really know what to expect. He’d spent most of his life focused on one thing, but now, the possibilities were endless.

~

“Seriously Mike,” Bill says calmly, “you’ll be fine!”

“Sure,” Mike replies, “still a new city, brand new part of the job. Tours at a museum that has”

“-more than one room, yes!” Bill chuckles, “and?”

“And…” Mike starts, but for once, doesn’t quite know what to say.

“Exactly.” Bill sounds smug, too smug.

“Ohh, okay, you’ve made your point.” Mike sighs. “I’d better go iron my shirt.”

“Great idea.” Bill says. “Good luck tomorrow! Let me know how it goes.”

“Of course!”

Mike swears he hears another familiar voice on the other end of the line before he hangs up. _That definitely didn’t sound like Audra_. He frowns for a moment, then shrugs and throws the phone onto the couch. “I suppose I really should iron that shirt.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Mike stares at the splotch of coffee on his shirt. _I didn’t even make it there. _Thankfully, Mike hadn’t even left the house yet on his first day leading tours at the museum and he was already messing up. He ran back into his room, changed his shirt and tie and left the house again. The mug of coffee sits on the bench, half-drunk, quite forgotten.

_You have got to be kidding me. _He thinks it this time, he’s standing at the front desk of the museum waiting for the next tour group when he sees them walking towards him.

“Next tour please!” Richie calls across the entrance hall, his grin wide.

_Oh god._ Mike shakes his head slightly, _no, stay professional._

Richie is closely followed by Bill, Ben, and Bev. The latter two are hand in hand, grinning widely. Bill has his hands in his pockets and is gazing around in awe like a child in a toy store.

“Next tour yours?” Richie asks with a wink.

“Yes!” Mike manages before clearing his throat, “the next museum tour is at 11am, just a few minutes.

The next half hour, Mike guesses, is probably the strangest tour he will ever lead. Though completely serious, his friends manage to throw every possible situation at him. Richie asks every question under the sun, some of which Mike only just manages to answer. Bill stands in front of every exhibit for the longest amount of time possible. He reads every sign even though Mike is talking about everything anyway. Ben and Bev want a photo with everything, literally _everything_, and they want _him _to take the photos.

By the end of the tour, Mike is exhausted, and possibly just a little confused. His friends left with a grin and a thank you. Bill had slipped a folded piece of paper into his palm as they shook hands. Something that they’d never done as friends. Mike frowns, shakes his head, then turns to his co-worker. “I’m going to take a ten.”

Sitting in the breakroom Mike unfolds the paper.

_7:30pm, The Grand Hotel Bar  
See you there._

“I can’t believe you guys!” Mike exclaims as he reaches his friends at their table. They’re all grinning so widely he can’t help but smile with them. “You were all in the hotel room when I was on the phone with Bill, weren’t you?”

“Yup,” Bev sounds pretty proud of them all, “you have no idea the amount of restraint it took Richie not to give the game away.”

Richie gave a dramatic gasp, “_Bev, _I am insulted.”

“Is she wrong?” Mike asks as he slides into a seat next to Ben.

Richie pouts. “No.”

“Pretty great plan though wasn’t it?” Bill adds. “We gathered you may as well have the most annoying tour group first try and then all the rest won’t seem so bad.”

“Thank you,” Mike replies with a smile, “though I’m pretty sure the other people on that tour thought you were all mad.”

“When has that ever stopped us?” Richie has a rebellious glint in his eye that Mike hasn’t seen since they were kids. “Anyone for shots?”

“No!” They all chorus back before bursting into peals of laughter.

Richie buys them a round of shots anyway.

Mike has the best night he’s had in ages. Surrounded by his friends, it’s the happiest he’s felt since he moved to the city.

~

“You’ll be alright, Mike,” The voice of his husband, Sam, reaches his ears through the haze of old age, “I love you, remember.”

“Sam,” he croaks back, his voice frail. He’d never wanted to leave him first, but time had made sure that couldn’t happen.

They’d met working at the museum. It hadn’t exactly been ‘love at first sight’ but it hadn’t been long before Mike had realised that ‘forever’ with Sam would make him the happiest he could ever be. Eventually bought an apartment together. It was snug, but it was all they needed. They never had kids, but they did adopt three cats from the animal shelter. They’d happily spoilt them to no end.

“I love you.” Mike says his eyes sliding closed, and a hazy blanket covering his mind, so he is surprised when he opens his eyes again to bright sunlight. Grass tickles under his fingers, fingers that are miraculously unwrinkled. _What sort of trickery is this?_ His mind instantly goes to Pennywise, the tricks It had played on him and the others._ Who is to say this isn’t It now?_

Mike shakes his head, “Can’t be, we killed It.”

“Mike!”

The sound of a weirdly familiar voice makes him jump to his feet. He spins around to stare open mouthed at someone who could only be Stan. Same cocky smile, same mess of curly hair. He’s just much older, more mature. “I died...this can’t be real!”

“You better believe it.” Stan replies steadily.

Mike runs forward to pull Stan into a hug. “I never expected the afterlife to be anything like this.”

Stan chuckles. “Just you wait.” He turns behind him slightly. “Hey guys! Guess who just turned up!”

There was a clattering of footsteps from underground before Bill, Bev, Ben, Eddie, and a young boy all clambered out of the Clubhouse trapdoor.

“About time!” Bill grins, “so to speak.”

“It’s been too long.” Ben adds with a sad smile.

“It really has been.” Mike manages before they all engulf him in a hug. His heart aches for Sam, because he had to leave him behind. He knows though that Sam will be okay, and eventually, Mike knows he will be alright too. _Whatever miracle this is, _Mike thinks, _this is unbelievable._

* * *

_**Interlude: Sam**_

**~**

Mike had decided a short while ago that he would accept whatever this strange new world threw at him. His arrival in Derry II (as they’d all been calling it) had been a shock to say the very least, so surely nothing could surprise him more. With the arrival of Patty and Audra, Mike could only assume that Sam would turn up soon too, he hoped so. He missed him, simple as that. It felt like the equivalent of forever, no matter how impossible that was.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

Mike nods, letting a sad smile settle onto his face as Eddie sits next to him on the park bench. “Am I that obvious?” He’d told everyone a lot about Sam, he wondered sometimes if he’d talked about him too much.

“Not quite, but I know that feeling.” Eddie mirrors Mike’s expression. “Since I first got here really.”

“He never stopped thinking about you.” Mike says before he can stop himself. “He misses you too.”

Eddie doesn’t answer immediately. Mike decides to not mention the tears in Eddie’s eyes.

“You’ll see Sam again, I’m sure of it.” Eddie finally says. “This place has done too much good to not bring him here eventually.”

“Thank you, Eddie. Seriously, you’ve been a big help.” Mike smiles.

“Not a problem Mikey, I just hope luck is in both our favours.” Eddie sighs, “Myra is a lovely, wonderful woman, but she’s just not for me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure this place knows.”

Eddie nods. He leaves shortly after, mumbling something about chocolate, and Bev.

It’s only then that Mike hears a familiar voice behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Huh?” Mike spins round, pulling himself to his feet. There stands Sam, larger than life. There’s confusion in his expression, mixed with a little bit of fear.

“Where am I?” His brown eyes widen, “I died, so why am I here? Why are you here? Mike please…” he gasps, “if you even are Mike.”

Mike sidles around the bench so that he can stand in front of Sam. He reaches out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Sam, it’s me. I promise you it’s me. This is where I woke up, after I, well, after I died. My friends from high school are here too, we’re not exactly sure why, but we do know it is some sort of afterlife. It has to be.”

“It’s really you?”

Mike nods, a wide smile lighting up his face.

“You look so young though…”

“So do you.” Mike answers, taking in the slight wave of Sam’s blond hair, the way his nose was slightly crooked from a childhood sports injury, the freckles on his neck, his kind smile. _It’s been far too long. _“I’ve missed you.”

Sam smiles wide. Leaning in to pull Mike into a tight hug. “I missed you too.”

Mike leans back just far enough to be able to press his lips gently to Sam’s in a kiss. _Yeah, I definitely missed this._

Sam pulls away. His expression, while happy, was still a little confused. “You all really don’t know why you’re here? You haven’t tried to find out?”

“We want to, but we also don’t want to know. We’ve all spent so long fighting our nightmares, and we’ve finally found a place where our nightmares can’t find us.” Mike sighs. “I think we’re all too happy to need to find out. I never thought I’d see Eddie or Stan again, yet here they are. I didn’t think I’d see you again either.”

“Yet here I am.” Sam smiles. “I can see how you don’t feel the need to know. I can sorta feel it too.”

“Content?” Mike offers.

“That’s exactly it.” Sam tugs Mike in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I love you.” Sam murmurs against Mike’s lips.

Mike’s reply is barely a breath, but it is audible in the peaceful silence. “I love you too.”


	5. The 'Real' Richie Tozier

_ **Richie** _

**~**

Richie had spent most of his life to date with an unmistakable absence plaguing his mind, a feeling of loss he could never quite understand. That was until he’d got the phone call from Mike, and everything had come flooding back to hit him like a tonne of bricks. Derry, Pennywise, his friends, _Eddie_. Eddie most of all, that incomprehensible teenage love he’d felt for his best friend. Love that at the time he’d never known what to do with. After that phone call Richie hadn’t thought he could feel that emptiness again.

He’d been wrong.

Richie kneels in front of the old fence on one side of the kissing bridge. He can’t stop the tears threatening to break loose as he traces his fingers over the ‘R + E’ he’d carved as a teen.

_Eddie_.

Days after the events in the sewers Richie still felt as if his world was crumbling. He was tearing apart at the seams, thread by thread, unravelling far too quickly for Richie to even try to keep himself together. It felt like it would never stop.

_Time to go, _Richie thinks. “Goodbye, Eds, my love.” Richie’s fingers linger on the carving for as long as possible before he walks back to his car. He’s not sure how long he sits in the driver’s seat before he actually starts the engine and heads towards the highway.

~

Richie couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t nervous before going on stage again. His last foray into big stage stand up hadn’t gone well, at _all_, in all honesty Richie thought it miraculous he’d made it to a Netflix special at all. Since he’d started writing his own material though, things had been on the up and up. However, no matter how much he always threw himself into his work, that absence was still sitting in his chest. Only now, he knew why it was there.

“Just don’t fuck it up,” Richie mutters to himself, “asshole.” He then adds for good measure. He can hear Eddie’s voice in his head as he speaks, and it isn’t the first time either.

The show starts off well, he warms up the audience with some of his older stuff, guaranteed crowd pleasers. That was when he notices the Losers in the front row, just as he is about to start the next section. _Oh shit._ He usually can’t pick out faces in the crowd, but _those_ faces he can’t miss.

“Anyone here grow up in a small town?”

There’s a small cheer that erupts from a scattering of people around the large hall, but mostly from the front row.

Richie grins. “You’ll know the feeling then. Knowing everyone, and all their business and just because your parents just got back from the supermarket. I knew more about my next-door neighbour’s cat then I did about myself as a teen, and that’s the truth.” There’s a chorus of laughter in response. “All laughs aside, my small town managed to ruin me. It was so bad I forgot. The town, my school, the people.” Richie chuckles. “I needed to, to stay sane. A bare minimum, as some of you would know, you small town folk.”

“Something else you’d know. You don’t want to be different surrounded by that small-town mindset, I’d rather be a pile of dogshit on the sidewalk then go back to my hometown. Dramatic I know, but what can I say?” He shrugs with a grin, getting a burst of laughter in return.

“Talking of different, I forgot my friends too,” Richie pushes his glasses up his nose, then sniffs, “they were shit anyway.” Richie can see Eddie’s face, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, ‘asshole’ he’d say. “_Shit_,” Richie repeats, “according to everyone else that is. No kidding. What do you call a friendship group consisting of every high school outcast you can think of? Losers.” There’s a wave of nervous laughter. “We were the best at that, being Losers, it made us stronger.”

Richie pauses.

“You must be thinking. What was a handsome, talented man like me doing in a Losers Club during his high school years?” There’s a short burst of laughter. “Hey!” Richie cries out indignantly, “ask this band of losers in the front row, they’ll tell you just how great I am.”

Then it’s as if something has taken over his mind. The empty feeling he’d been burying for so long started to overwhelm him. Whatever material he had left was gone with the last bubbles of laughter from the crowd.

“There’s one guy, however, who would disagree. The other Losers fucked off - quite rightly I must add - to numerous places all over the U.S., while he stayed with me. Despite all my apparent failings of course.”

The audience stays silent apart from a few quite chuckles. He can see his friends in the front row clearer than ever now, they all look worried. Especially Ben, as if he knew what was coming. He knew more than Richie at this point anyway, of that much he was certain.

“I asked him to marry me, you know that? Yes, _him, _now you know the real reason I was in the Losers club. Not that I knew it at the time - casual small-town homophobia and all that.” Richie shakes his head. “Anyway, so I took him to dinner at his favourite restaurant, I had it all planned out, very unlike me, but it was worth it. And I kept trying to talk about the ‘big _us_’, you know, so I could pop the question. I just couldn’t do it, through no fault of my own I must add, he just wouldn’t _stop_ talking. I thought _I _had the gift of the gab.”

Laughter runs through the crowd and Richie grins.

“Finally I managed to get a word in, asked him, got the ring box out and everything. Peak romance.”

More laughter.

“And…” Richie draws out the vowel sound, “he said, no!”

More laughter. Bill looks like he wants to drag Richie off stage.

“He said _no_! To all this?” Richie gestures wildly to himself. “Listen here though, it’s not just that. He then pushed the ring box away from me and said ‘No, Richie, I’m sorry, I just can’t marry you.’ Never before have I been more gutted, and truly, once or twice I very nearly have been!”

There’s a bout of nervous laughter.

“He then burst into laughter and said, ‘only joking, just wanted to see how you’d react’. I was outraged, _I’m_ the comedian in this relationship, and looking back on it, the joke itself was perfect, just rather cruel.”

There’s a few ‘here, here’s’ from the crowd followed by laughter. It teeters out when Richie fails to continue speaking. He takes a long drink from the bottle on the table, he can feel the anticipation from the audience in the air.

“I’ve never loved anyone more in my life.”

More silence.

“No, actually,” Richie takes a deep breath, “I lied.”

Nervous laughter rustles through the crowd.

“Sorry about that,” Richie continues, “especially with this show being titled _Beep Beep, Richie: The Real Richie Tozier._ Though the part about the love of my life is true, his name was Eddie, and I’ve loved him for most of my life, even when I didn’t realise it.” Richie takes in a deep breath, exhales, “I still love him.”

At this point, Richie doesn’t even know if they were still filming, but there had been no move to drag him off the stage yet, so he kept going.

“The truth is - seeing as that’s what we’re all here for - the love of my life was murdered right in front of me by a psychotic, interdimensional alien clown...”

Richie could feel the silence clawing at his chest as he took in a breath to say his next line.

“...and you know what the funniest fucking thing is? I never got to tell him the truth.”

_Beep beep, Richie. _Eddie’s voice rings in his ears as Richie puts the microphone back on the stand. He then turns and walks off stage. Through the deathly quiet which blanketed the hall he could hear the sound of four sets of feet following him from the audience, up the stairs, and into his dressing room. He let them follow, there was no one else he really wanted to see. There’s the sound of the lock on his door clicking behind him as they all bundle into the small room.

They don’t say anything as they envelop him in a hug, just like they had at the lake. It’s all Richie needs as the tears stream down his cheeks. Richie knows he has made a complete fool of himself, but right now he can’t bring himself to care.

Eddie’s voice in his head is finally, well and truly silent.

~

Richie didn’t like to think he had welcomed old age, welcomed his days in the nursing home, but he had. That was until Loser’s could no longer visit him, and he could no longer visit them. To say he missed them was an understatement. The man in the neighbouring room, Edward Sulkas, reminded him of his own Eddie. They eat dinner together every night, complaining happily about whatever the cook had served up that night, but still finishing every morsel. Edward (as he couldn’t stand for nicknames, something Richie found out soon after meeting him) was perfect company in his old age - and seemed to have all the time in the world for Richie’s jokes and impressions. No matter what though, Richie would always find himself dreaming of the Losers and the good parts of their childhood together. 

So when Richie wakes one morning (or at least he thinks he wakes up) under a tree in the middle of a strangely familiar forest in the body of his forty-year-old self he has no clue what is going on. _What sort of sick joke is this? _He thinks, _I can’t be back in Derry...I left that place for a reason. Dream or not, this is fucked, this is actually mad, I-_

“Richie?”

_No, this is just a dream, I can’t be back here, no wa-_

“Richie!”

Richie opens his eyes again, looking up to see Stan kneeling in front of him. He looks so much like he remembers him from childhood, just older, and a little bulkier. _Fuck, I must be dreaming._

“Trust me, okay, everything’s fine.”

“I-” Richie manages, clears his throat, then, “what the hell is going on?”

“Do you want the long version, or the short version?”

“Hit me, short version, go!”

“You’re dead.”

“Well _fuck_.” Richie isn’t sure what else he can say. _It makes sense though, if Stan is here._

Stan chuckles, standing up before pulling Richie into a hug. Richie couldn’t be happier to see him.

“If I’m dead though, what am I doing here? Even better question, what are _you _doing _here_?” Richie waves his arms around in a wild gesture at their surroundings.

“You’re not the first to ask that. And no, I am not some sort of guardian angel if that is what you’re thinking.”

Richie doesn’t hear the last of Stan’s words. “What do you mean ‘not the first’?”

“Oh,” Stan grins, “we’re not sure why, but everyone’s here now.”

“What?”

“Ben thinks it, all this, is some extreme form of karma. You guys stopped It after all.”

Richie frowns. “We all did.”

Neither of them speaks for a while.

“Do you want to see the others?”

“Do I!?” Richie grins, he hasn’t felt this good since the last Christmas they were all together. Better even. Richie follows Stan down a familiar path. “We’re still using the Clubhouse then?”

“Most of the time.” Stan replies. “With no one here we’ve sort of taken over town a little. It seems to have everything we need when we need it. We’re still not sure what to make of it to be honest. The Clubhouse is still our base though, we all seem to feel safest there.”

Richie hums a reply as he sees the trap door entrance, completely distracted by the memory of seeing the place for the first time. Arguing over the hammock with Eddie. _Eddie. _He’s not sure why that thought hadn’t occurred to him first, but now, the thought of seeing Eddie again had his feet rooted to the spot.

“Hey guys!” Stan was already calling out. “Guess who I just found!”

“No way!” Came Mike’s voice.

“Trashmouth!” That was Bill.

Richie climbed down only to be engulfed in a tight hug. Crowded in on all sides, Richie has missed this feeling of being so loved. They break apart, all smiling and laughing. _This is absolutely mad, _Richie can’t help but think with a smile, _but then again, we did defeat an evil interdimensional alien clown. Twice._

“It’s so good to see you all again!” Richie grins. “Never thought I could be this happy while dead!”

“Beep beep Richie.” Ben laughs.

“What! It’s true!” Richie takes a step back, staring around at all his friends, the people who had become his family. Bill, Stan, Bev, Ben, and Mike. _Eddie, where’s Eddie?_

“Funnily enough, the Afterlife Hardware store does have hand sanitiser. I also found fairy lights. It would be nice to not bang my head on this low hanging ceiling all the time.”

_That voice._

Eddie’s voice is pitched just as Richie has always remembered it. Short and quick, a frequency all of its own. It was so undeniably Eddie that Richie feels a jolt in his chest at the sound. _I haven’t even seen him yet, _Richie thinks, _it really has been too long._

Richie spins around, and though he knows exactly what he’ll see, he still can’t quite believe it. Eddie is standing there, placing the lights and hand sanitiser on the floor next to him. “You’re alive.” He says. Dumbfounded. His heart beating somewhere in his throat, or at least he thinks it is. Nor is he sure why he said what he did. It’s not true, not really. Eddie looks just the same as when he saw him last, just standing, and not so covered in blood. He’s still so uniquely handsome though, his wide brown eyes still just as beautiful as they’d ever been.

“No,” Eddie deadpans, “but neither are you, _dumbass_ so I’d rephrase that if I were you.”

Eddie’s comment is so damn _Eddie_ that Richie nearly chokes on his next words. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

“Yes.” Eddie frowns, glancing round at everyone as if to say, ‘did nobody explain the situation to him?’. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Richie doesn’t even answer him. He dashes forward to pull Eddie into a tight hug. Eddie fits perfectly into his arms, he smells of hand sanitiser and soap, a scent so familiar it hurts. Richie doesn’t quite want to let go, but he knows he has to at some point.

“Richie let go. You’re squeezing me!”

Reluctantly, Richie does so. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

Richie is unashamed of the tears that are readily trying to roll down his cheeks, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to cover them up the best way he knows how. “Your mom here Eds? I-”

“Beep fucking beep Richie!” Eddie groans. “Good to know you haven’t changed.”

Staring at Eddie again, whole, _alive_(?) Eddie, Richie realises he shouldn’t have to hide anymore. He gives him a fond smile. “Neither have you Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds!” Eddie replies, but he can’t keep the affection out of his tone.

“Case in point.”

They stand there staring at each other. Neither quite knowing what to say.

At some point Ben breaks the silence asking pointedly if anyone wanted to go for a walk. Everyone but Richie and Eddie follow him up and out of the clubhouse. Richie has never been more thankful for Ben and his observant ways. He wasn’t in the mood to have an audience for this.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like you’ve seen a ghost or are you going to talk to me?” Eddie snaps, but not unkindly. He smiles at Richie, cracking the tension slightly.

Richie still doesn’t quite know what to say, but as per usual, when he opens his mouth, words come out. “You’re looking good. Better than when last I saw you anyway…” he trails off.

Eddie snorts. “Not much of a comparison there. Still,” he tilts his head, “not looking bad yourself.”

“Listen, Eds,” Richie starts, swallows, then, “whatever this is, whatever meant that all this could happen. You have no idea just how happy I am to see you again.”

Eddie smiles at him, and to Richie, that smile is the brightest thing in his world. _I missed you so, so much._

“Really, Rich?” Eddie splutters, “How dense can you be?”

“Huh?”

“Do you really think I didn’t feel the same way?”

Richie’s next breath catches in his throat.

“It’s not like I realised as early as I would have liked.” Eddie continued. “I mean, you’re loud, you don’t think before you speak, and once you start speaking you never even stop!”

“I hope you’re going somewhere with this.” Richie manages.

“Of course.” Eddie frowns. “...and don’t get me started on your fashion sense. You infuriate me to no end.”

“Eds…”

“But you’re my best friend.” Eddie finishes.

“Your point?” Richie gapes. “Please…”

“You’re my best friend, Rich, I cared for you more than I understood at the time.” Eddie dips his head. “By the time I worked it out I was just too scared to say anything. Plus, I had no clue if you felt the same. Then I forgot. When I saw you again though, all those years later. It was just the same. Nothing had changed, and I was going to tell you, but then-”

“You- you died.”

“Yeah.”

Richie still doesn’t quite know what he’s hearing. He’s still staring at Eddie, mouth open slightly, heart racing. _He doesn’t mean...he can’t..._ Richie closes his mouth.

“Please say something, anything.” Eddie stares at him pleadingly.

“I can’t, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

“Richie Tozier, speechless, that’s new.”

“Not really, not that new,” Richie chuckles, “not since you’ve been around.”

“_Sure_.”

“I felt the same way you know, but I was just as scared as you were.”

“We really were idiots, weren’t we?” Eddie says, downcast. “We lost so much time.”

“No,” Richie sighs, somehow, without thinking about it, the words – for once – come out like they’re supposed to, “we were kids, Eds, scared, confused kids. Wrong place, wrong time. That time wasn’t ours, maybe we just weren’t ready.”

“Not anymore…”

“Not anymore.” Richie agrees, closing the gap between them with another small step. He leans forward to rest his forehead against Eddie’s, a small smile turning the edge of his lips. _He’s here, I got him back, he’s here._

“I love you, Eds.”

“Richie,” Eddie pulls back slightly, staring at Richie fondly. “I love you too.”

Richie leans down, pressing his lips gently to Eddie’s. Slipping a hand on the small of his back he pulls Eddie closer. The kiss is short, but full of an adoring, careful love. It’s new, but it is good, more than anything Richie could have ever imagined. They pull apart, slightly flushed, but smiling brightly.

Richie can’t help the nervous giggle that leaves his lips, along with the most childish words imaginable. “You had a crush on me,” he giggles again, “how embarrassing for you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you were much different.”

“True.” Richie agrees.

“Just as embarrassing.”

“Of course, my love.” Richie grins.

“_My love_.” Eddie echoes. “I could get used to that.”


	6. The End (of the beginning)

_ **Epilogue** _

**~**

The Losers never quite worked out why they’d all ended up back in Derry, a kinder, more welcoming Derry, but still, it was Derry all the same. They’d all ended up in a place that had brought them all so much grief, but now, it had become home again.

The group had lost so much to a cruel, rogue part of the universe that should never have existed the way it did. They hadn’t needed to lose that time, but they’d wanted to do good.

So, the universe rewarded them. Gave them back their stolen time.

They’d lost over thirty years with eachother, but now the universe had given them an eternity of time together to make up for it. A second chance at life, and in some cases, a second chance at a much happier life. Giving them that time, the universe was saying thank you. Not that they really understood that, nor would they ever understand.

What they did know though, was that they were content.

**Author's Note:**

> This story doesn't really have chapters so to speak, even though it does, I just broke it up a bit for easier reading (I hope it's easier at least)


End file.
